


The Sky and The Sea

by Story_ii_Character



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-25 03:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17113229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Story_ii_Character/pseuds/Story_ii_Character
Summary: There is an old Kryptonian story, about the sky and the sea. Two forces of beauty and power, destined to be together, forever kept apart.But some endings are meant to be re-written.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FromAnotherSun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnotherSun/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack recommendations, if anyone is interested (and a total nerd, like me):
> 
> Prologue:  
> “The Born King” from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword by Daniel Pemberton  
> Chapter 1:  
> “With Love” and “Homer and Candy on the Dock” by Rachel Portman

**Prologue**

  

There was a time- a time before memory, when the land was new- a time before war poisoned the very earth upon which blood was spilt- a time when Rao’s children possessed extraordinary gifts. 

 

But as the hearts of his people were corrupted by greed and power and violence, so these gifts faded, until there was born but one blessed child in every generation. And as war after endless war raged on, so these children became fewer and fewer, until there were none.

 

Such things now exist only as whispers in the night, as tales told by firelight- legends beyond the imagining of most men.

 

Of these legends, there is one that still persists. 

 

A prophecy, turned myth, once whispered with reverent hope. Of two warriors- born not of the same blood, but both wrought from fire and grief. Children of Krypton, they say, fated to bring an end to the War. Fated to be Krypton’s salvation. Fated to save them all.

 

 

///

 

  

They call it The Great War. 

 

Generation after generation, Krypton and Daxam battle for dominance over the country. Time and again their armies clash along the border, neither truly advancing, neither willing to retreat.

 

There comes a terrible battle, one whose casualties devastate both sides, one that wreaks havoc on the resolve of all. And so the members of Krypton’s Council- led by the House of El- meet with the King and Queen of Daxam to arrange a treaty, an attempt at peace.

 

The few years to come would be known as the Slumber- when the fighting seemed to have burnt itself out, and the whole of the continent rested in uneasy peace. 

 

Months of respite stretched through the turning of seasons, seasons turned to years, and some began to dare hope that the war had truly found its end. 

  

But even sleeping embers can spark a flame.

 

 

///

  

 

**Chapter 1**

 

This is the story 

of two 

fated to be

Apart forever

the Sky and the Sea

Ever upon the horizon they meet

Yet no ship or sail or eye has seen

The union of 

the Sky and Sea

 

The soaring Sky 

and the fathomless Sea

 

_Excerpt from the book of Kryptonian myths, author unknown, Kandorian Library, Year 312_

 

 

 

_House of El, Argo City, Krypton_

   

Kara Zor-el slips through the stone hallways, slippered feet quiet and swift. She avoids the adults looking for her with ease, familiar with the castle in the ways that only a curious five-year-old can be. 

 

Her ears prick as she nears a crossroads with one of the main passages leading to the great hall- unknown voices mingle with the the familiar tenor of her Aunt Astra.

 

Small but nimble hands and feet make quick work of the crevices in the roughly-hewn bricks and as the voices near, Kara stills, blending into the shadows of the great beams arching across the hallway.

 

“We certainly appreciate the gesture, but I must admit I cannot see the urgency. The war is over.” A tall, severe woman walks past, head held high. She must be one of the dignitaries Kara’s mother had said would be visiting today.

 

“And indeed, that is why we have asked you here,” Astra says as she strides into view. “That we might impress upon you the immediacy of the situation.”

 

They continue past Kara’s hiding spot, but not before Astra flicks a knowing look toward Kara’s hiding spot, eyebrow arching in amusement. Kara smothers her giggle until they turn the corner, then scampers down to dart further into the castle.

 

 

///

 

  

Kara follows the chirps of sparrows echoing through the portico, feet pattering faster and faster until she at last emerges into the courtyard. 

 

A sweet spring breeze catches her hair, tugs at the edges of her dress and Kara twirls onto the grass, a delighted grin breaking out across her face. She collapses unceremoniously to the ground, arms spread wide, welcoming the sun like a dear friend. 

 

It had been an unusually long winter, and an unseasonably dreary spring. Kara, confined to the indoors for months on end, had begun to feel an itch beneath her very skin, a restlessness that could not be satisfied but for the wind in her hair and dirt between her toes. 

 

Now, under the sweet caress of the sun’s rays, Kara breathes deep and thanks Rao for his return at long last.

 

Gradually, Kara’s attention is drawn to a soft sound issuing from the other side of the courtyard, behind the wide trunk of the single tree growing within the enclosed space. 

 

Curious, she rolls to her feet, pausing to listen properly. It sounds almost like… crying.

 

Concerned, Kara approaches the tree slowly so as not to startle the owner of the tears. As she rounds the trunk, she sees a small form curled into the deep groove at the base, dark hair hiding the face of a young girl. 

 

Kara pauses, unsure if she should interrupt. She does not recognize the other child, and her chosen spot- hidden beneath the low arms of the tree- would seem to indicate a desire for privacy. 

 

But as Kara watches the girl’s shoulders shake, her whole body trembling with the effort of containing her sobs, Kara finds she cannot walk away. 

 

“Are you alright?” Kara whispers, hands clutching at the folds of her dress to contain the urge to reach out. Father says she’s gotten too old to hug strangers.

 

The girl’s head snaps up and dark locks part to reveal bright green eyes- eyes that greatly resemble those of a startled woodland animal. She presses further into the tree, away from Kara, one hand cradled in the other. 

 

Kara remembers what Alex taught her last summer in the woods when they stumbled upon that injured fox: she settles onto the ground slowly, making herself smaller, less threatening. She picks a blade of grass, keeping the girl in sight without staring. 

 

“I’m Kara,” she ventures in a not-quite whisper. She glances up to direct a smile at the girl. “I live here. What’s your name?”

 

Those green eyes regard Kara cautiously, and Kara finds herself pleased when the fear fades from her posture. Despite the few tears still slipping down her cheeks, she holds Kara’s gaze as she answers, “I’m Lena.”

 

Kara nods deeply, the way she sees the adults greet one another. “Pleased to meet you, Lena.”

 

Lena doesn’t nod back, but she gives a half-smile and Kara’s returning one is brilliant and wide.

 

“What happened to your hand?” Kara looks down at the hand Lena’s still clutching in her lap, scraped palm becoming visible as Lena turns her hand to look at it.

 

“I tripped,” Lena’s mouth twists as tears fill her eyes again.

 

“Does it hurt?” Kara asks, brows drawing together as she takes in Lena’s distress.

 

Lena shakes her head but she starts to cry harder. Kara can’t help it- she scoots closer across the grass, hand outstretched to touch Lena’s shoulder. “I know the healer here. She’s my Godmother- she can help.”

 

Lena shakes her head again. “I’ll get you in trouble.”

 

Kara cocks her head. “We won’t be in trouble. Eliza’s an expert on scrapes on account of Alex and I turning each other into hooligans.” 

 

She grins as she states the last part, chest inflating as she remembers Eliza’s words. Kara’s still not sure what the phrase means, but despite Eliza’s tone, Alex has only ever brought happiness and adventure into Kara’s life, so Kara’s certain it must be a good thing.

 

Lena looks at Kara dubiously. “But I got my dress dirty, and you-” She looks down at the dress Kara is wearing- dirt and grass and whatever else Kara had been laying on still stuck to the fabric.

 

Kara doesn’t understand Lena’s concern- but she can fix it. “You can have one of mine,” she declares, pleased with herself for finding a solution that helps her new friend and also rids her of one of the dreaded restrictive garments. Maybe Lena can borrow all her fancy dresses and Mother will finally let her wear pants like Aunt Astra. 

 

She pops to her feet, holding a hand out to Lena. “Coming?”

 

Lena just looks at Kara, hesitant and a bit confused.

 

Kara waits, smiling. _You have to let the fox come out of the hole on its own_ , Alex had said. _If it doesn’t trust you, you can’t help._

 

Finally, Lena takes Kara’s hand with her good one. 

 

There’s a loud POP and the girls jump apart, breaking whatever sparked between them at the contact. All the birds scatter into the air, their chirps of protest echoing around the courtyard.

 

Kara looks at her hand, flexing it, amused by the tingling there. “Neat.” 

 

Lena does not share her enthusiasm and when Kara extends her hand again Lena just eyes it warily. Kara giggles, still amused by the unusual burst of energy, but when Lena doesn’t join in, Kara’s humor fades. 

 

Her new friend is looking fearful again.

 

“Don’t be scared,” Kara soothes. “I don’t know what that was, but I didn’t mean to frighten you, I promise.”

 

Lena’s brows furrow in thought. “Promise?”

 

Kara nods solemnly. “Want to try again?” She extends her hand, leaving the contact up to Lena.

 

Slowly, Lena reaches out, placing her hand in Kara’s again and- 

 

Nothing happens. 

 

Kara huffs, disappointed. “Rats. I was really hoping you were a wizard.”

 

This time it’s Lena who giggles, surprised into laughter by Kara’s disgruntled reaction and outlandish declaration. She releases Kara’s hand and wipes the last of the tears away with the back of her hand. “Shall we?”

 

Kara nods enthusiastically. “We shall!” 

 

And with that she sprints toward the nearest corridor, tossing over her shoulder, “C’mon Wizard, watch your footing!”

 

 

///

 

 

Kara ends up being right- when two giggling, gasping little girls blow into Eliza’s workshop she doesn’t bat an eye. She simply scoops each of them up and onto the edge of her table and gently treats Lena’s scrape. 

 

Kara sends them both into fits of laughter at the bawdy sea chanty she crows to distract Lena from the sting of the poultice. 

 

Lena’s laugh is delightful- her whole countenance changed from the fearful, timid girl Kara found by the tree. 

 

Kara thinks hard- when she first heard the song, Cook stopped singing when he realized Kara was listening. But she’s pretty sure she can remember the second verse, and she can always make something up- anything to keep that laugh going. She launches into the chanty again with gusto.

 

By the time Eliza’s finished, all three are in stitches, and their joy has filled Kara with a warmth greater than the sun. 

 

And even though Lena’s smile dims the moment the severe woman appears to gather her for the journey home, it doesn’t fade completely, and Kara knows she has found a friend.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Recs:
> 
> “Lily’s Theme” from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 by Alexander Desplat,  
> “Should You Choose to Accept It” from Mission Impossible Fallout by Lorne Balfe,  
> “Persepolis” from Morning Dew by Alan Ellis

 

_The Resting Fields, House of El, Argo City, Krypton_

_Six Years Later_

 

Lena grips Lex’s hand tightly as she watches the slow progression of figures in black. 

 

Those gathered to bear witness stand in solemn silence as the litters are born up the winding path from the castle into the hills where the House of El lay their dead to rest. 

 

The wind, however, does not hold its peace. With mournful groans it winds through the dark boughs of the towering evergreens standing at attention at the base of the mountain, their uppermost branches cloaked in the grey mist that hangs low like a specter over the day.

 

As the procession nears, each person lining the path to the pyres bows their head low in respect as the fallen leaders of Krypton pass. Lex squeezes Lena’s hand as a reminder when it’s their turn, and Lena ducks her head down. 

 

She watches pair after pair of boots pass by, the only sound the crunch of the rocky ground beneath them and the persistent howls of the north wind. Two pairs of feet- much smaller than the others- catch Lena’s eye, but she dare not raise her head, not until Lex squeezes her hand once more and they turn up the path.

 

As they walk, Lena stares at the back of her mother’s cloak and tries not think about the last time they wore these clothes, only a few months earlier. 

 

Their mother has worn black ever since.

 

Atop a broad green hill the mourners spread to form a circle around the four great pyres built up in the center. 

 

While those carrying the litters go about the business of placing their charges atop the pyres, Lena searches the crowd for one particular face.

 

There. 

 

If Lena did know what to look for, she would not have recognized the face of Kara Zor-el. 

 

Gone is shining girl Lena met years ago. 

 

This Kara stands solemnly, still, her younger cousin Kal tucked into her side, her back straight and her eyes hollow. 

 

Lex had told Lena that Kara and Kal were the sole survivors of the attack that claimed the lives of their parents. Later that night, Lena had heard the rest, crouched in the dark beside the door to the study, her ear pressed to the crack to hear the voices of her mother and brother. 

 

She heard how men- more than men- creatures, assassins- had crept into the castle in the deep of the night. Had attacked with blade and fire and something more- a power thought lost to the world for many years. How Kara had been found by her aunt Astra some hours later, a dead man at her feet, blade still in hand, covered in blood not all her own, her cousin Kal sleeping safely in the room at her back.

 

She heard something unfamiliar in Lex’s voice that night- fear. 

 

Lena had crept back to her bedroom that night and lain awake until the dawn finally broke.

 

The next day, Lex taught her how to hold a knife as they waited for the servants to load the horses, promising they would begin lessons upon their return home.

  

Lena looks at the bruise coloring Kara’s cheek and wonders what sort of lessons she had been taking, to have survived the attack.

 

With a flash of light, torches are lit. 

 

A woman with a streak of white through her hair steps forward from beside Kara. She presses a fist to her chest, raises her chin, and begins to sing.

 

Lena doesn’t understand the words. But she knows what it means. 

 

As the woman’s voice rings clear and raw across the hillside, others join- their voices combining into a great chorus. 

 

Lena watches the tears stream silently down Kara’s cheeks, feels moisture on her own, and she knows: they are saying goodbye. 

 

As the last verse fades into the mist, the pyres are lit. Within moments, each is a pillar of flame, the heat reaching Lena even from many feet away.

 

Her father was laid to rest in a tomb, surrounded by stone and damp darkness. 

 

As Lena watches the embers float up to be swallowed by the beckoning grey sky, she thinks that this seems a more fitting ending: to not go silently, but in a blaze of crackling light.

 

  

///

  

 

Several hours later, Lena slips out of the great hall, leaving behind the clamor of voices, the pressing din of the feast prepared for those who had come to pay their respects. And a great many they were- hundreds gathered to mourn and remember. 

 

But the press of memories, of wounds still fresh, wears on Lena until the air becomes thick in her lungs. 

 

As she steps into the cool quiet of the night Lena feels something release in her chest, and she savors the salty air. The distant hush of waves upon the rock is a soothing balm, so similar to their home in the west.

 

She picks her way down the moonlit path to the stables, not certain of her destination, but yearning for something familiar to comfort the nagging ache of her father’s absence. 

 

Standing in the entry, Lena’s eyes adjust slowly to the dim interior. She spies several large heads poking out of their stalls curiously, eventually identifying Pollux by the splash of white between his eyes, visible even in the relative darkness of the room. 

 

“Hello old friend,” Lena whispers as she strokes his nose. He nickers in response. Lena presses her forehead to his, fingers combing through the long hair of his mane. 

 

If it wouldn’t get her in trouble, she would stay here the rest of the night- in the quiet, with a companion who does not regard her with ill-concealed pity or judgment. 

 

She would stay where she doesn’t have to listen to her mother discussing prospects for Lena’s marriage, or think about people who are… gone.

 

A soft sound further into the stables draws her out of her reverie.

 

“Hello?” she calls out. “Is someone there?” 

 

She moves to investigate, pausing when she remembers the story she overheard- about assassins, at this very castle. Her heart beats quickly in her ears as she pulls the small knife Lex gave her out of her boot, but she continues on.

 

One of the stall doors is open. 

 

Lena approaches cautiously, thankful for the low flickering of a lantern a few stalls down, just barely illuminating the space. She edges forward, knife at the ready and-

 

Blue eyes stare at her, one rimmed in an array of purple and pink. Fresh tear tracks mark her face.

 

“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” Lena apologizes, immediately aware that she’s intruding. “I’ll just-” She turns to go.

 

“Wait.” Kara’s head rolls to the side from where her chin rests atop her knees. She regards Lena from her spot tucked against the side of the copper-colored horse lying in the stall.

 

“Lena,” she says quietly.

 

 

It shouldn’t matter- that Kara remembers, that she recognizes Lena after all these years. 

 

But it does. 

 

Lena smiles gently. 

 

Kara’s gaze moves to Lena’s hand and Lena realizes she’s still holding the knife. “Oh-” Lena leans down and tucks it back into her boot. She’s not sure how to explain why she was holding the knife- not without bringing up the reason Kara is probably out here in the first place. 

 

Kara watches her with that same hollow look Lena noted earlier and whatever pleasantry Lena might have been about to say sticks to her mouth. 

 

She recognizes part of Kara’s expression- has seen it in the mirror, on Lex’s face when he thought she wasn’t looking- even on her mother’s, once. 

 

But it’s different too. Kara looks… haunted. Bruised on the inside as much as the outside.

 

Lena thinks about the last several months, wandering the castle in a fog. About not wanting to be alone, but wanting to be left alone. About why she came out here. 

 

She’s never been good with words. Not like Lex, who can rouse an entire army to battle with just a sentence or two. Not like her mother, who wields words like weapons. 

 

So she doesn’t say anything. 

 

She walks into the stall and lowers herself to the straw-covered floor, drawing her knees up like Kara.

 

Kara doesn’t move, just closes her eyes when she feels Lena join her.

 

And when fresh tears slide down Kara’s cheeks, Lena simply scoots closer, pressing her knee to Kara’s. 

 

Eventually Kara’s shoulders begin to shake, and she curls to rest her forehead against her knees. Lena sets a hand on her back tentatively, and when Kara leans into her, Lena wraps that arm around Kara’s shoulders. 

 

She doesn’t speak, because there aren’t any words. She just holds her friend while she cries.

 

 

///

 

 

A while later- Lena’s not sure how long, long enough for the lanterns to have burned low, for both their tears to have run dry- a girl a few years older than them appears at the stall door. 

 

“There you are.” Firelight illuminates the relief written on her face, the concern when she spots Kara’s red-rimmed eyes.

 

She looks at Lena warily and Lena tries not to feel intimidated by the protectiveness emanating from the dark-haired girl. 

 

“Alex,” Kara says. The girl- Alex- looks at Kara and relaxes her stance, some unspoken thing communicated between them. 

 

Kara climbs unsteadily to her feet, wincing, and both Lena and Alex reach out to help. Kara grips Lena’s arm and Alex’s hand, letting them assist until she can stand straight.

 

The long trek to and from the resting grounds, standing tall at the pyres, through the feast and greeting line after... the pinch returns to Lena’s chest. She hadn’t realized Kara was hurt beyond the bruise around her eye.

 

“Are you okay?” she asks, aware that she has no right to pry, but feeling that she needs to know the answer anyway. 

 

Kara looks at her and Lena thinks again that it’s not the external bruising that is bad. 

 

She’s not sure what she expects Kara to say- she wouldn’t know how to answer that question herself, not honestly. 

 

What she doesn’t expect is for Kara to step into her space and wrap her arms around Lena. Surprised, it takes Lena a moment to react- but then she clasps her arms carefully around Kara’s shoulders, Kara’s head leaning into hers when she feels the returning pressure. 

 

Kara doesn’t say thank you, but she doesn’t need to. Because when she steps back, she smiles, and Lena finally catches a glimmer of the girl she first met.

 

 

///

 

 

As they are about to depart the next afternoon, Lena is stopped by a small boy wearing an apron and covered in white powder. “Are you Lena?” 

 

When she nods, he hands her a cloth-wrapped parcel, grins widely, and bids their party safe travels.

 

Bewildered, Lena plucks at the twine tied around the bundle until it comes free. She folds back the ends of the cloth to reveal a pile of still-warm baked sweets.

 

Tucked inside is a scrawled note, the parchment warm and spotted with buttery stains. 

 

 _“Wizards eat cookies, right?”_  

 

Lena’s burst of laughter earns a disapproving look from Lillian and an inquiring eyebrow raise from Lex. Lena simply offers him one of the treats and busies herself wrapping the rest up for the ride home. 

 

The fresh cookies don’t last long, tasty as they are. But Lena tucks the note inside her riding jacket, and swears she can feel its warmth the whole ride home.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack recs:
> 
> "Rob Inspired" from Robin Hood by Joseph Trapanese

 

 

_The Luthor Estate, south of Metropolis, Krypton_

_Three Years Later_

 

Kara wanders the grounds, the dim light and morning mists her only company. She woke early from a restless sleep, her mind unable to settle, unwilling to commit to the task at hand.

 

A task which is foolish, and a waste of time. 

 

Kara kicks at a rock on the path, finding her anger undimmed with the dawning of a new day. She had argued with Aunt Astra for most of the first week of their journey, to no avail. 

 

Peace had been broken the night her parents were killed. The conflict with Daxam that had claimed so many lives in the time of her parents’ youth is not over, as they had hoped. The Great War rages on. 

 

Kara kicks another rock.

 

But despite the fact that they are at war, Kara has been dragged along on this diplomatic errand. Eldest of her line, heir to something-or-other.  (Astra claims that they must participate in the politics of running the country. That maintaining order and unity between the houses is as important to winning the war as any battle.)

 

_Kick._

 

And despite the rumors from the northernmost posts- of something dark and twisted stirring within the Daxam borders- they’re spending three weeks- _three weeks_ \- visiting the other members of Krypton’s ruling council. 

 

_Kick._

 

But the war has been raging for several years now, with no end in sight. And Kara has two years left before she can even attempt the trials- the mandatory evaluation for all Kryptonians wishing to join its fighting force, the Regiment. 

 

She needs to be spending every possible moment preparing so that when she gets the chance, she’ll be ready- to defend her people, to avenge her parents, to make a difference in this war. 

 

To face those who tore her life apart all those years ago.

 

And yet. _Kick._

 

She’s here. _Kick._

 

Away from her training. _Kick._

 

Wasting time. _Kick._

 

Playing at being the diplomat her parents once were. _Kick._

 

When she should be- _kick_ \- fighting- _kick_ \- the people- _kick_ \- who killed-

 

Kara’s last kick launches the rock across the grass, slamming it into a tree trunk with a loud crack, chunking off a piece of bark and setting the leaves shaking in protest.

 

Breaths heaving, she hears Alex’s voice, _“In through your nose, out through your mouth.”_

  

Kara closes her eyes.

 

Alex had left that summer, after nearly a year of arguing with Eliza. 

 

Kara knows her surrogate sister- and despite Alex’s natural gifting as a healer, she has always been a fighter. Has always defended those who could not defend themselves, has always pursued justice, has always stood for what she believes. 

 

And so a week after Alex’s sixteenth birthday, she rode off to the training camp with the others attempting the trials. 

 

Kara had been proud and not at all surprised when word came that Alex had not only passed each and every task with flying colors, she’d been accepted to train under one of the Regiment’s elite archer units.

 

Kara breathes in deep, like Alex taught. 

 

She _is_ proud. But she also feels her sister’s absence each day, almost as if a piece of Kara’s own self is missing, an aching hole left in its place.

 

Kara shoves the thought away, focusing on her breaths, willing her anger to settle back down to the simmering embers that are her constant companion.

 

Breath steadying, she tunes her ears to her surroundings- to the quiet applause of leaves clapping against each other in the wind, to the soft snickering of horses down by the stables, to the distant thunk of an arrow landing home.

 

In control again, Kara follows her curiosity to that last familiar sound. She finds what must be the training grounds- several dirt clearings for sparring, racks of staffs and wooden swords lining the interior of the nearby building. It’s a similar setup to what they have in Argo, right down to the archery yard- a simple fence enclosing the area, targets set in a neat line down field, the archer’s position on the other end marked by a flag tacked to an extended length of fence post.

 

Even from a distance, Kara recognizes the archer getting in their repetitions, and she feels a kernel of warmth grow in her stomach.

 

_Lena Luthor._

 

Lena doesn’t pause, unaware of Kara’s approach, and Kara takes the opportunity to observe. She leans her elbows against the top rail of the fence, settling in to watch.

 

 _Thunk._ Another arrow sinks into the target furthest from Lena’s position.

 

Long fingers reach blindly, deftly selecting another arrow from the quiver. Dark hair curls along Lena’s temples, the slight gleam of sweat and the steam of heat rising off her head and shoulders the only indication of the strain as she nocks the arrow and draws back the string in one single, steady movement. Lena’s breath crystallizes in the air in front of her the moment before she looses.

 

 _Thunk_. Another hit in the center of her target. 

 

The first streak of sunlight breaks over the trees, glinting along the shaft of Lena’s next arrow, the strong line of her arm, setting the halo of steam coming off her shoulders ablaze.

 

 _Thunk_. 

  

 _Beautiful_.

  

How was it Astra had defined their mission?

 

_To build and strengthen relationships with allies._

 

Well then. It’s only fair Kara do her part.

 

 

///

 

 

Lena’s day began early, as always. 

 

Knowing that the finer points of etiquette are hardest to attend to when one has just awoken, Lena’s mother comes by first thing each morning, intent on instructing her daughter in the proper carriage of a noble woman.

 

This morning’s lesson had ended particularly poorly, Lena drawing her mother’s wrath when she expressed once again her intent to take part in the trials, to use her strategic mind and skill with blade and bow to fight for their land, their people. 

 

Lena is good- maybe even great. She sees it in each arrow that sinks into the center of a target, in the quiet approval of her instructors, in Lex’s eyes when he’s home, always making time to see her train. Feels it in the way the wind sings to her as it guides each arrow true.

 

And yet the only look on her mother’s face is one of disappointment, of disinterest. She will discuss furthering the interests of the Luthor name, expanding their influence on the council- but never Lena’s aptitude or her desire to fight. 

 

Never the war raging, taking a toll on each and every person Lena meets. 

 

Sometimes Lena thinks that if Lex were not leading a squadron on the front lines, her mother would deny the very existence of the war altogether.

 

It is not a new point of conflict between them, but on this particular morning, Lena had found herself unable to sit in silence as her mother delivered another lecture on duty and responsibility that was bereft of any moral obligation. 

 

So she had left.

 

Lena finds the training grounds blessedly empty. She loads a quiver, straps a bracer on her forearm, and begins.

 

Again and again she fires, each arrow loosed becoming another of her mother’s weighty expectations, driven away.

 

The expectation not to fight, but to strengthen the Luthor name.

 

The expectation to lengthen the reach of their house through marriage.

 

The expectation to set aside any notion of love.

 

The expectation to marry for strategy and power.

 

And when she reaches for an arrow and finds none, Lena stalks to the target to retrieve her arrows, and begins again.

 

 _Draw_. What she wouldn’t give- _Release_.

 

 _Draw_. To choose- _Release_.

 

 _Draw_. Her own- _Release_.

 

 _Draw_. Destiny- 

  

“Ahem.”

 

Lena’s arrow flies wide to the right, disappearing into the trees beyond her target.

 

Scowling, Lena turns on the owner of the voice. “What the hells-”

 

Kara Zor-el is leaning against the fence, her face a blend of amusement and chagrin. She tries for humor. “Guess you _can_ miss.”

 

Lena just stares. Mother had mentioned some visiting council members, but- she’d completely forgotten. That Kara would be here. 

 

Kara Zor-el, who vaults the fence with one hand and covers the distance between them with long strides, her golden braid shining in the morning sun. She holds her hand out. “It’s been a while.”

 

Lena takes in the grin that has shifted from apologetic to cocky and decides that diplomacy is overrated.

 

She smooths her expression into the patented Luthor smile and grasps Kara’s forearm. “That it has.”

 

Kara’s expression falters for a split second and then Lena yanks, pulling Kara off balance just as Lena sweeps her legs.

 

Lena crosses her arms and looks down at Kara, now flat on her back and looking flabbergasted- much to Lena’s satisfaction. 

 

“I take my training rather seriously.” She arches an eyebrow. “Unlike some. I don’t appreciate the interruption.”

 

Something flashes in Kara’s eyes and Lena has just enough time to question taking her frustration out on the other girl before she finds herself eating dirt. 

 

 _Oh hells no_ \- Lena flings an elbow back, connecting with Kara’s side. Kara lets go with an _oof_ and Lena scrambles up, lashing out with a kick that Kara knocks to the side. 

 

They square off, and Lena is freed of the twang of regret for striking Kara when Kara’s first punch comes hard and fast, clipping Lena’s chin, snapping her head to the side. 

 

She dances back, shaking off the blow. 

 

So that’s how it’s going to be.

 

Lena feels the surge in her blood that comes with every fight and she throws a challenging smirk at Kara. Kara’s returning look is full of a context that Lena can’t read, but she sees the anger clearly enough. 

 

Her own anger and frustrations rise in response, gleefully accepting this outlet.

  

They dance.

  

And that’s what it is- a trading of blows more dance than brawl, Kara’s speed and length of reach an equal match to Lena’s quick, graceful dodges and cunning, calculating moves. Intensity radiates from Kara and Lena responds in kind, not checking her blows, exerting everything she has. 

 

Never has she fought like this- not once in all the years since Lex started training her after the assassination of the El family. And as each move and counter-move build and crescendo in a violent, beautiful waltz, part of Lena awakens. 

  

Lena sees and opening and strikes- but Kara found the same spot of weakness and they meet in the middle in an explosive exchange of blows that knocks them both to the ground.

 

As Lena stares at the sky, she wonders if the light she saw was the result of Kara’s boot smacking into her face or something… else. 

 

She reaches a hand up to rub her jaw. Probably the boot.

 

Kara groans and Lena rolls her head to the side.

 

“Fuck.” Kara is splayed as ungracefully as Lena, one hand covering her face. “Sorry.” 

 

Lena’s eyebrows raise at the curse. Mother would flay her for language like that.

 

Kara’s face is twisted up in genuine regret. “Sorry,” she repeats, glancing out from under her hand.

 

Lena laughs, surprising them both. Finding her heart light, her humor genuine, Lena laughs again. “Don’t be sorry. That was... “ She shakes her head and looks over at Kara. “Have I lost my mind or was that not genuinely fun?”

 

Kara stares at Lena long enough to make Lena question if maybe she has lost her mind. But then her squint dissolves into a tentative smile. 

 

She rolls into a sitting position. “You’re okay?”

 

Lena sits up as well, crossing her legs to mirror Kara. She tilts her head from side to side, tests her limbs, shrugs. “I think so. You?"

 

Kara nods, her smile relieved.

 

Lena takes in the both of them- covered in dirt, sure to have bruises later. She grins as something occurs to her. “Mother will have a fit.”

 

Kara snorts- which sends Lena snickering, which gets Kara giggling- and it’s several moments before either can speak for the laughter that has taken them over.

 

Eventually Kara sobers, and she turns sincere blue eyes on Lena. “I don’t- or rather, I _do_ know where that came from, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Kara runs a hand through her hair, sighing. “I truly am sorry.”

 

Lena shakes her head. “It wasn’t just you. I was spoiling for a fight before you even arrived.”

 

Kara still looks remorseful so Lena adds, “But thank you. Apology accepted.”

 

She stands and holds a hand out to help Kara up. “Truce?”

 

Kara accepts her hand, allows Lena to pull her to her feet. “Truce.”

 

Kara’s smile- the one that’s unburdened and full of affection, the one Lena hasn’t seen since they were children- returns. 

 

Lena ignores the way it makes her light up inside, instead asking, “What?”

 

Kara’s grin turns full of mischief. “Maybe diplomacy isn’t so foolish after all.”

 

 

///

 

 

They make a pact before Kara leaves- a promise to write when they can, and a promise of friendship, no matter the distance or the time between them.

 

It might seem a small thing, the word of two adolescents, the friendship between an unlikely pair. 

 

But neither could know what the coming years have in store and just how powerful such a bond can be.

 

 

The letters come frequently at first. They talk about nothing, and everything- musings and stories that mean little on their own. 

 

But in the mundane lies a beautiful knowing, and so it is that two souls so far apart draw close.

  

Kara finds out Lena is afraid of heights, that her favorite dish is vegetable stew, and her favorite color is the deep blue-green of the ocean on a stormy day. 

  

Lena learns that Kara loves the summer, has begged her aunt for a hound to call her own (no luck so far), and has been chased halfway across the castle by the chef for her voracious appetite and sneaky fingers.

 

 

As their sixteenth birthdays approach, both write of the increased training, of days laden with anticipation.

 

But then… the letters slow to a stop.

 

 

After several months of silence, Lena receives a note from Kara. 

 

She writes from her new training camp, having just arrived. She tells of passing the trials, of feeling somewhat disappointed at how anticlimactic it was after so many years training. But then she describes her joyous reunion with Alex, stating it was all worth it to be at Alex’s side once again. 

 

Almost as an afterthought she tells the story of an… incident, on her sixteenth birthday. Of a cheap shot taken at her friend Winn by one of the older boys. Of her challenge to the brute, finally fed up with his constant bullying. Of their fight, which ended in Kara knocking the boy- larger than Kara by half- clear across the training yard and through a fence.

 

Of the strength that hasn’t left her since.

  

Lena’s reply comes quickly, relaying her own strange experience on her birthday. 

 

She tells of Lex visiting, of a stray arrow in the training yards, of saving his life from twenty paces away by some strange power. 

 

She doesn’t know what it is, but she’d seen the arrow, had thrown out her hand, and a gust of wind had arisen, knocking Lex out of the way.

 

Lena tells of waiting to take the trials, of her brother’s insistence that they look into the phenomenon. She writes of research and yellowed scrolls and the word Kara has been pondering herself.

  

_Magic._

  

By their eighteenth years, both have found their places within the Regiment. 

 

The letters come slowly, traveling great distances in the hands of other soldiers and scouts, tucked into saddlebags and coat pockets, carried over field and forest and stream.

  

Returning to the northern base camp from her unit’s missions, Kara often finds a letter waiting upon their arrival. 

 

It becomes her habit to spend that first night back reading and re-reading, savoring every loop of Lena’s scrolling handwriting by the light of the campfire. Even Alex knows not to interrupt her, Kara more protective of that time than she is of her food.

 

Through Lena’s letters Kara learns of Samantha Arias, the young captain who takes Lena under her wing. Lena writes of Sam with a fondness and respect that leaves Kara fighting a twinge of jealousy. 

 

But the more Lena describes finding her place in their unit, the camaraderie fostered under Sam’s command, the more Kara is simply thankful. Thankful to hear of someone like Sam, watching Lena’s back. Thankful that Lena seems to have found her place.

  

Lena’s unit spends their days on patrol, constantly moving, scouting along the mountainous western border with Daxam. She receives Kara’s letters in batches when they stop at the Regiment camps to rest and restock supplies. 

 

Lena saves those letters, wrapping them carefully in leather and tucking them deep inside her saddlebag. She removes them only when certain of her privacy, reading by moonlight after her shift of the night watch is done, or on horseback, the sway of Pollux’s gait keeping time with the rhythm of Kara’s words.   

 

Lena learns that Kara’s sister has earned command of her own unit. That Kara has been placed under Alex’s leadership and they are often on the move. They are small, Kara says, but fierce.

 

Sometimes, Kara draws- a tall pine sketched along the side of the paper, the proud silhouette of mountains along the bottom edge, the profile of her sister or someone else close enough for Kara to reference. These letters are perhaps most precious of all, for Kara’s drawings give Lena a glimpse of how Kara sees the world- how she notices the beauty around her.

  

But Kara also writes of battle. 

 

Of losing friends. 

 

Of grieving for both sides. 

 

Of finding her thirst for revenge worn away by the tragedy of war. That in its place a steadier drive arises- one for justice, for peace. 

 

In this, Lena could not agree more.

  

And so they both write of hope- of deep friendships wrought by shared trials, of savoring moments of normalcy, of meeting the civilians they fight to protect. In unvoiced agreement, they each make concerted efforts to see these things, to recognize what there is to be thankful for, the bright amidst the gloom.

 

 

It might seem a small thing, the words of two women, the continuing friendship between an unlikely pair. But such a bond is powerful, and each letter becomes a beacon of light in the midst of the ongoing conflict.

 

But the darkness hates the light, and as one grows, so does the other.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Recs:
> 
> “The Born King” from King Arthur: Legend of the Sword by Daniel Pemberton  
> “Growing Up Londinium” ^same (once the action starts)  
> “What Made Us Feel Human” by Alan Ellis (campfire)

 

Despite the ongoing struggle, the shifting of lines, the constant battle for power- rumors begin to spread. 

Of a warrior from the south with the strength of ten men- swift as a wolf, tall as a bear. 

And of a warrior from the west, a whirlwind of blade and fury, a mage who speaks to the earth, can call the ground to swallow armies whole.

 

As the stories spread, there are many who scoff, disbelieving. 

But still the stories are told, for the truth of the tales is of little importance compared to what the telling brings: something more valuable than food or armor or gold, something which could indeed change the tides of the war.

 

Hope.

 

/// 

 

_The Old Forest, 50 miles south of the Daxam border_

_Three Years Later_

  

Lena slides her hands into the water, cupping them to bring some of the cool, clear liquid to her lips. When she’s had her fill, she dips her scarf into the river, rubbing away the accumulated grime from their journey. 

 

They’ve been on the move for three weeks now- Lena’s unit and five others, sent from the western camps to aid in the northeast. 

 

It has been slow going over rough terrain, the steep hills and deep rocky valleys of the mid-country slowing them to a snails pace, the horses having been reserved for their own supplies and the replenishments they’re bringing. 

 

With each day, their meager progression wears more on Lena’s nerves, made all the more grating by the insistent prickling along her neck. 

 

Lena scans the opposite shoreline from the shadow of her hood as she washes. 

 

They’ve been traveling through the old forest since yesterday- vast swaths of towering evergreens, their branches so thickly intertwined that little sunlight shines through. Years of shed needles carpet the forest floor, muffling footsteps and muting all other sounds. From the moment she had set foot beneath the green canopy, Lena had felt uneasy.

 

She stands, wringing her scarf tightly, using the motion as an excuse to survey her surroundings further. 

 

It’s a small river- shallow and rocky, but clear- and many of her companions are taking advantage of it as she is. The open sky above is a welcome reprieve from the eerie quiet of the forest. 

 

But even here, Lena cannot shake the sensation of being watched.

 

This part of her magic has always been harder to understand, nearly impossible to control- when her own instincts are informed by the air or the earth, their voices speaking to her in wordless impulse and feeling. 

 

It had taken a year of training with Lex to even begin to understand the power that awoke on her sixteenth birthday. Her trials delayed, his own obligations to the Regiment forgone, they had scoured the libraries at Kandor for mentions of magic, for the legends of those gifted by Rao. They had trained and experimented day and night, always away from prying eyes, working until Lena had some semblance of control, could call on the power that had saved Lex’s life.

 

Even now, years later, it comes in spurts and sparks, most responsive to her call when she keeps it small, controlled.

 

“What do you see?” Sam asks. 

 

She pauses beside Lena to uncap her water jug, her motions deceptively casual. 

 

She stoops to fill the leather container and Lena turns her back to the river, trusting Sam to keep watch. She closes her eyes, reaching for the well of magic simmering within. 

 

She pictures a crack, a sliver of an opening from which she draws a single thread of golden light. She allows it to pool in her mind, seeping through her senses, the magic filling her until she can see further, more, as if the air and the trees had sight, and she makes their sight her own.

 

Something is in forest. Something that does not belong. 

 

Lena reaches further, trying to get a sense for what it is that feels so wrong, or precisely where-

 

“DOWN!” Lena spins, hand chopping through the air, a line of water rising at her behest, knocking aside the arrow headed straight for Sam.

 

Sam rises swiftly from her crouch, her blade already gone. There’s a moment of silence, and then a crackling of branches as something falls from one of the trees across the river. With a thud, a man in the dark brown of Daxamite’s archers lands on the ground, Sam’s blade buried in his throat.

 

“AMBUSH!” Sam’s shout rings out just as a roar goes up from across the river. 

 

Dozens of Daxamite soldiers emerge from the trees, swords raised. Lena pushes Sam’s head down as several arrow fly by and then they’re sprinting for the trees with the rest of their company, sparing precious moments to snag their packs and weapons along the way.

 

The barrier of the river buys them just enough time to slip behind the protection of the trees before the next batch of arrows is loosed, thudding into the wide trunks at their backs.

 

Lena pauses behind a tree to yank her quiver over one shoulder. She sees Sam doing the same a couple trees away, hears the others making for the horses further into the forest and the gear stored there. She pulls an arrow free, leans around the tree and fires, striking the first Daxamite to reach their side of the river. He does down with a splash. Lena fires again, counting their numbers, gauging the distance.

  

They need time- time for the others to get to their weapons. Time to settle into some kind of formation.

 

Maybe-

 

Lena looses another arrow and shouts to Sam, “I’ve got an idea!”

 

Sam fires twice in quick succession. She glances over to see Lena hunkering down again behind her tree. “What are you doing?”

 

“Cover me!” 

 

Lena closes her eyes. Blocks the sounds of Sam firing, the shouts from the other units. 

 

Reaches out. 

 

She can feel it- the river. Powerful, despite its size. Strong- especially further upstream, the waters heavy and wide where it winds through the marshlands.

 

Lena doesn’t have the strength for what she wants- to call that water downstream in a wave. She starts to try anyway and feels the yank in her stomach as her magic strains. Too much.

 

More arrows thud into her tree. Sam swears. Lena blocks it out.

 

She calls out again, not to the river, but below- the rock and silt and sand. There. 

 

Clenching her fists, body and mind straining, Lena wills it to move- to swirl and shift and sink.

 

Shouts of alarm rise from the river, splashes as soldiers go down, tripped by the riverbed.

 

“It’s working!” Sam cries.

 

Sweat slips down Lena’s back. There are more soldiers- she can feel them, retreating to other shore. With a heave, she pulls mud up through the riverbed where it wraps around boots, sucking them into the muck- 

 

Sam’s cry of pain snaps Lena from her magic. 

 

Sounds of the battle rush back in. 

 

Lena hadn’t stopped the Daxamites completely, but she’d bought their people enough time to try and make it a fair fight. 

 

All around, her unit engages the soldiers that finally pull themselves from the river, voices rising as they join the melee.

 

Lena struggles heavily to her feet to search for Sam, gasping for breath as the drain hits her like a blow.

 

More soldiers join the fight for both sides, Jess’s familiar battle cry sounding nearby. 

 

Lena has just made it to her feet when a sword swings for her neck. She rolls, dodging the follow-through, using the momentum to put some distance between herself and her attacker. She rises with blade in hand, spinning to face the enemy. 

 

The man has only half a face. 

 

Where nose and cheek should be, smooth black scales stretch, covering one eye- an eye that blinks at her independent from the other, yellowed and reptilian. 

 

Her magic sparks, flaring in alarm, reacting to whatever darkness has warped him. 

 

Lena feels her power surge, welling up unexpectedly. He charges, and she sprints to meet him, dropping to her knees at the last moment, sliding beneath his sword and delivering a critical blow with her own. He collapses.

 

A shout goes up, but when Lena spins to face the enemy she finds a dozen riders, sweeping onto the battlefield. 

 

Lena’s heart soars as she recognizes the Kryptonian house symbols etched into their leather brigandines. They plow into the remaining Daxamites, ending the fight decisively, sending the enemy fleeing back across the river.

 

Lena’s cry of victory rises with the others, a grin breaking out across her face. Relief floods her as she spots Sam several yards away, standing and whole, head craning as she searches the faces of those around her. Lena heads towards Sam, calling out.

 

Sam’s gaze snaps to Lena at the sound, relief washing over her features. 

 

She’s just started walking toward Lena when her expression shifts to one of horror and Lena has just enough time for her magic to bark a warning. 

 

She spins, blade raised, too slow- the dark soldier’s blade already curving in a deadly arc- 

 

Metal clangs on metal, the blade stopped inches from Lena by a massive sword- a sword held by a tall blonde Kryptonian warrior. 

 

Lena’s magic flares again and she sends a burst of air past the warrior, knocking the Daxamite back. He tumbles, losing his sword. Rising to all fours, he opens his mouth and releases a chilling, inhuman hiss. 

 

Lena hears the others join them, gasps of surprise audible as they get a good look at the Daxamite. He rises slowly, hands held up in surrender, calculating eyes surveying their group and the weapon at Lena’s feet. 

 

Lena’s sword strike is clearly visible across his stomach- she had struck true. And yet he stands, seemingly unaffected by the killing blow.

 

The warrior who came to Lena’s rescue steps forward, sword outstretched. “What are you?” she commands.

 

The Daxamite just grins chillingly. His voice rasps out, full of hatred. “One of many.”

 

He cocks his head, looking pointedly at Lena before turning his gaze on the other warrior. 

 

“Curious.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. His eyes snap open. “Ah. Rao’s blessed children. Such sweet blood.”

 

Without warning he flings himself forward- not at Lena or the other woman, but onto her sword, driving it deep into his own chest. The warrior cries out in alarm but holds firm to her weapon. Lena feels Sam’s hand on her shoulder, ready to pull her back. Another of the newly-arrived warriors, a short-haired woman, steps up next to the warrior, arrow at the ready. 

 

But the Daxamite sags, dropping to his knees, terrible smile still in place. He looks up at the warrior. “Queen Rhea says hello.”

 

The warrior rips her sword out with a roar, her companion stepping forward, but the Daxamite is already gone, folding limply to the ground as soon as the sword is gone.

 

A shocked silence falls over them all.

 

Sam steps in front of Lena, scanning her for injuries. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yes,” Lena says disbelievingly. “Thanks to her.” She nods toward the blonde, still standing over the Daxamite’s body.

 

The warrior’s shoulders rise and fall with heaving breaths, every muscle clenched. She steps around the body, toeing it over with her boot. When she glances up at her companion, Lena gets her first good look at the woman’s face.

 

“Kara?” Lena whispers.

 

Kara’s gaze snaps to Lena. She blinks, brow furrowing. And then the fierce swirl of post-battle emotion clears, recognition replacing the turmoil. 

 

Her entire stance softens, relaxes. “Lena.”

 

Kara’s companion looks from Kara to Lena with surprise, a different kind of recognition flashing. 

 

Leaning in, Sam asks, “ _The_ Kara?” 

 

Lena answer is cut off with an ungainly squeak as she gets wrapped up in a hug, lifted off her feet.

 

Despite everything they just faced, Lena can’t help it- laughter bubbles up and escapes. “Kara, put me down!”

 

Kara does, leaning back with hands on Lena’s shoulders to look her over. “I can’t believe it’s you.” She smiles and Lena’s magic flares again, singing through her veins. 

 

Sam is laughing, but Lena can’t bring herself to care. She smiles back dumbly.

 

Their exchange breaks the tension and the rest of those gathered begin to disperse.

 

Kara’s companion is poking at the Daxamite with the end of her bow. “Not to spoil the reunion but we should do something about this. I think he’s actually dead but we can’t take any chances.”

 

Kara gives Lena one last smile before seriousness settles over her again and she goes to join the other woman. Lena feels the loss of contact like a wash of cold water over her shoulders.

 

Sam’s still chuckling and Lena whacks her with the flat of her blade. “Stop that.”

 

She doesn’t. But they do join the others in deciding what to do about the strange soldier and Lena forces herself to focus on the task at hand and not the joy rippling through her at the unexpected reunion.

 

 

///

 

 

Later around the campfire, Lena spoons stew from her bowl and revels in the twists of fate that have brought Kara Zor-El to her once again. 

 

Across the fire, Sam and the short-haired woman- Kara’s oft-mentioned sister, Alex- sit close, thick as thieves as they pass a flask back and forth. 

 

Kara drops down next to Lena, a piece of bread stuffed in her mouth, her third helping of stew in hand. She extracts the bread and chuckles, following Lena’s gaze. “Should’ve known they’d get along.”

 

Lena smiles, warmth spreading at the sight of Sam tipping her head back in laughter at something Alex said.

 

Kara turns to straddle the log, facing Lena fully. Lena glances at her sidelong, an eyebrow raising at Kara’s stare. “Yes?”

 

“You look great.”

 

Lena sprays her last spoonful of soup out in front of her. “Excuse me?” she sputters.

 

Kara roars with laughter. “What? You do!”

 

Lena chuckles, feeling her cheeks heat- and not just from the fire. “Well, so do you.” She glances over with a smile. 

 

And Kara does. In the years since Lena saw her last, Kara has changed dramatically. Gone is the wiry, gangly teenager- instead the firelight dances on the strong cheekbones of a woman, a warrior. Kara has grown tall, her body honed in battle. The cloak wrapped around her broad shoulders does little to mask the muscle that lies beneath.

 

Lena pulls her gaze away, sipping at the broth left in her bowl. She feels Kara’s gaze linger a moment longer before she dips her head to dig into her meal.

 

Kara speaks around a mouthful of stew. “So magic, huh?”

 

Lena shrugs. “Apparently.”

 

She raises an eyebrow to Kara. “And you? I hear the Lion of Argo can juggle ten men.”

 

Kara sputters with laughter, some of her stew dribbling out over her chin. She swipes it away with the back of her hand and swallows. “That’s a good one.”

 

When Lena turns to face Kara, directing the eyebrow at her again, Kara sets her bowl down.

 

She tilts her head, contemplating the hand she flexes in front of her. “It might be magic. Sometimes I’m just- stronger, faster. I can see and hear things from further than anyone else.” Her brow furrows. “And there’s something- this feeling, in my chest?” She looks up at Lena. “Do you know what I mean?”

 

Lena nods, her magic stirring at the mention. “Power.”

 

“Yes.” Kara nods. “I always thought the old stories were embellished to be entertaining, but,” she looks at her hands again. “I don’t know what else it would be.”

 

Lena remembers the warped face of the Daxamite soldier and shivers. “If magic has returned, that would help explain what we saw today.”

 

A frown pulls at the corners of Kara’s mouth and she turns toward the dark woods beyond their perimeter. “You heard what he said?”

 

Lena follows her gaze, stomach tightening with foreboding. “One of many.”

 

Kara clasps her hand over Lena’s where it’s clenched around her knee. “Don’t lose hope.”

 

The world around Lena fades to two points: the heat of Kara’s skin on her own and those earnest blue eyes set alight by the nearby flames. 

 

Again, Lena’s magic pulls, swells, responding to Kara’s proximity, asking to be set free. 

 

The fire flares with a pop, sparks spewing into the air, startling them both. 

 

Kara lifts her hand, breaking contact. Blinking, she leans back. “So,” she says, straightening up again. “I have something for you.”

 

Heartbeat still thudding in her ears, Lena just says, “Oh?”

 

“Wait here.” Kara is grinning again. 

 

Lena watches Kara round the fire, ruffling her sister’s hair on the way to their packs, and Lena’s heart settles back down. Sam catches her eye, a question written on her face. Lena waves her off with a shake of the head. She’s not even sure what that was- magic or coincidence or something else. 

 

There will be time to contemplate it later, she’s certain. Because as Kara sits back down- knees touching Lena’s, hands behind her back, affection and anticipation in her smile- Lena knows she’ll spend the night awake, staring into the night sky, a certain blonde on her mind.

 

“Close your eyes, please,” Kara asks, eyes bright.

 

Lena acquiesces with an indulgent grin.

 

“Now hold out your hands.”

 

Lena does so. A moment later, something soft and heavy settles against her skin.

 

Lena looks down, finding herself holding a scarf of deep, striking blue- the exact blue of the underside of a wave on a grey day.

 

Kara’s face is scrunched up with apprehension. “I met the most remarkable craftsman on the road back from Kandor a few months ago. We offered to escort his trading party for as long as our paths merged and he offered us each an item in thanks.”

 

Lena’s fingers close over the expertly woven fabric. The material is softer than any she’s felt before, the weave fine and even. “It’s beautiful.”

 

She tries to hand the scarf back. “Kara I can’t accept this- it’s too fine a gift.”

 

But Kara’s apprehension has been replaced with delight, and she shakes her head. “You have to- as I told the gentleman who made it, I saw the color and immediately thought of the western seas, which then made me think of you.”

 

Lena opens her mouth to protest again and Kara cuts in. “Please. Winter will be here soon, and you’ll want something warmer.” She nods to Lena’s current scarf. “Plus, you’ll be doing me a favor- I’ve been waiting four months to give this to you. You’ve got to take it off my hands.”

 

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up. “Four months?”

 

Kara shrugs. “I didn’t trust anyone else to deliver it. And I had a feeling our paths would cross.”

 

“A feeling,” Lena says incredulously.

 

Kara’s smile just widens. “Yes.”

  

Lena looks down at the scarf and the thoughtfulness of the gesture settles like a warm blanket over her shoulders. She finally nods, accepting. “Thank you.”

 

Satisfaction radiates from Kara and for the second time that day Lena finds herself wrapped in a hug. Clasping her arms around Kara in return, Lena relaxes into the embrace. 

 

Moments such as this are few and far between- normalcy, affection, happiness. And Lena has learned to savor them as the gifts they are, to store them up in her memory, bright lights to be opened up when the darkness of war wears her thin.

 

When they part, Lena feels as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

 

Kara bids her goodnight, gathering Alex on her way to where their unit has bedded down for the night. As Lena watches them go, she decides Kara is right- whatever lies in store, she will fight to hold to hope. 

 

Hope for peace. Hope for a future that is more than moving from one battle to the next. Hope for a life beyond the war, beyond her family’s expectations- a life of her choosing.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Recs:
> 
> “Change of Plan” from Mission Impossible Fallout by Lorne Balfe,  
> “The Treasury” from Robin Hood by Joseph Trapanese,  
> “The Legend Begins” from Robin Hood by Marc Streitenfeld

 

_Daxam/Krypton Border_

_One Year Later_

  

Kara thrusts, her sword slicing through the leather armor of the soldier in front of her. He dies with an inhuman screech, his cry revealing sharp teeth set in a man’s mouth. Kara whirls, sensing the next attack, her shield used as a battering ram, sending the Daxamite flying. 

 

Thrust, slice, parry. 

 

Her arms begin to tire, but the movements flow without thought.

 

Block, swing, repeat.

 

Faster and faster, Kara cuts through the enemy, her keen eyes looking for scale and claw and fang- the signs of Rhea’s dark soldiers- men turned… other, twisted by dark magic.

 

More and more they’ve been fighting those creatures, as if it’s a disease spreading, slowly overtaking all of Daxam’s army. 

 

Kara twists, knocking a two-handed downward swing to the side. She lashes out with her boot, connecting with the soldier’s chest and knocking him into the next two running for her. They all go down.

 

Kara takes the brief pause to get her bearings, evaluate.

 

_Shit._

 

She’d gotten too far ahead again, outpacing her unit, the rhythm of battle singing to the magic in her bones until she’d stopped paying attention.

 

Alex is going to kill her.

 

Kara meets the next wave of attack with brutal efficiency, always moving, her shield as deadly as her sword, the blunt metal edge turned into a savage weapon as she swings.

 

She spares precious focus to try and locate Alex and her unit amidst the melee, but her ears can’t pick up Alex’s voice- just the clamor of battle.

 

Which means she’s well and truly separated from them.

 

_Shit._

 

Shield held tight, Kara charges into the Daxamites, buying some space and time as they recoil in surprise. 

 

The first to recover steps forward with a snarl. His sword comes hard and fast, Kara having to work to stay ahead of his blows. They lock blades, his cross-guard slamming into Kara’s, and she’s just noticed the yellow gleam in his eyes when his head snaps forward.

 

Kara twists, arm raising to protect her throat just as two rows of fangs clamp down.

 

Kara barks in pain. She kicks, but he’s latched on, eyes wild as he tastes her blood. Freeing her shield arm, Kara slides one of her knives out, driving it up under his ribcage.

 

But she must miss his heart, because those gold eyes actually _smile_ and Kara senses the other Daxamites closing in. She grabs the soldier by his armor and turns, bodily swinging him in front of the first blow. He howls, releasing her arm, but it’s too late- she can feel the blades at her back, knows she can’t stop them-

 

A blast knocks them all to the ground, dirt flying.

 

Kara’s back on her feet in an instant, blade in hand. 

 

As the Daxamites rise, Kara finds herself back to back with another warrior. There’s no time to to identify this new ally, but Kara’s magic pulses bright and strong, and so she doesn’t question.

  

She fights.

  

As they meet the oncoming horde, it’s as if the last hours of fighting never happened- her fatigue gone, the well of power that fuels her strength filled to the brim.

 

Kara is a tempest, her fury unleashed, matched only by the whirlwind of blades at her back. 

 

The enemy doesn’t stand a chance. 

  

When the familiar colors of the Regiment break through, driving the Daxamites into retreat, Kara leans her hands on her knees, breathing deep, the swell of power seeping away.

 

Surrounded by allies, she finally looks over at her battle-partner.

 

Breaths heaving, Lena Luthor glances up and they lock eyes. 

 

Kara feels the smile breaking wide across her face, a match to the one on Lena’s.

 

She reaches out, and Lena clasps her forearm in greeting. As they stand there, the sounds of battle fade, until all Kara can hear are Lena’s breaths, until all she can see are those sapphire eyes, pools of green holding her captive.

 

“What the fuck Kara!”  Alex breaks the spell by shoving her sister.

 

Sam’s there- also shouting. 

 

It takes all of Kara’s willpower not to grin at the picture they make, both cursing creatively and alternating between relief and outrage.

 

She glances sidelong at Lena and finds she’s not the only one. Lena gives Kara the flash of a smile before her expression shifts to one that is appropriately contrite and she moves to soothe Sam.

  

When Kara turns back, Alex’s arms are crossed and she’s leveling Kara with a glare that could cut stone. 

 

Kara’s steps forward to apologize.

 

  

///

 

  

Kara endures Alex’s scolding as she patches Kara’s arm- knowing it’s deserved, knowing she needs to be more careful. When Alex finally meets Kara’s eye after, Kara apologizes again- for not being more careful and for the worry she caused. 

 

Alex’s hug tells her all is forgiven just as much as the punch to her good shoulder as she sends Kara off for food.

 

 

///

 

 

Kara finds Lena later that night, settling next to her on the ground in front of one of the camp fires. She pulls something from her pocket as she leans back against the log, handing it to Lena.

 

Lena quirks an eyebrow but accepts, laughing when she unwraps the cloth and finds a cookie within.

 

Kara had bartered away a great deal for that treat, wanting something tangible to accompany her words. “Thank you, for saving me.” 

 

Lena tilts her head thoughtfully. ”You would have done the same.” 

 

She smirks, facing the fire again. “Besides, haven’t you talked to Sam? She’s under the impression that I got myself separated and would have perished if not for the sword of Argo’s champion fighter.”

 

Lena leans into Kara as she says it, teasing.

 

But Kara’s not joking- she knows where the fight was headed. Knows that she owes her life to this remarkable woman. 

 

“Sam’s wrong,” she says. She waits until Lena looks to her, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “You, Lena Luthor, are my hero.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Recs:  
> “Nottingham Burns” from Robin Hood by Marc Streitenfeld (Lena)  
> “Not Today” from The Mountain Between Us by Ramin Djawadi (Kara)  
> "Marion Looks For Rob" from Robin Hood by Joseph Trapanese (at the camp)

 

_Agean Mountains, Somewhere Near the Daxam/Krypton Border_

_Three Months Later_

  

Lena stands at the edge of the cliff, letting the wind buffet her, wishing it would cleanse her mind of the turmoil that had been unleashed.

 

She’d received a letter three days ago, before their unit left on their current survey of the border. Lena had mechanically moved through the motions of preparation and departure, her mind unfocused, her heart elsewhere. 

 

Sam steps up beside Lena, gazing at the wide expanse of the mountainside, carved in two by the river rushing far below. 

 

She had seen Lena read the letter, and while her keen eyes had not missed Lena’s turmoil she had graciously given Lena the space to digest the news on her own.

 

Now, Lena pulls the folded paper from her pocket, handing it wordlessly to Sam.

 

_I have found you a match. Return home by the end of the season._

_\- Lillian_

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena sees the shock ripple through Sam. “She can’t-“

 

“She can,” Lena says simply.

 

“There must be something- what can we do?”

 

But Lena just swallows, shaking her head. “Nothing. It’s done.”

 

She finally looks at Sam. “I’m sorry.” 

 

Sorry to leave. Sorry to abandon their unit. Sorry to forsake the family they’ve built.

 

Sam clasps Lena’s shoulder and she reads the note again, clearly still processing, still trying to work out a solution. 

 

But Lena had spent the last three days working the problem herself, and she knows- this is her path now. Her mother had only allowed Lena to join the Regiment with the understanding that she was still beholden to her obligations as a Luthor.

 

Sam sees the resignation in Lena’s eyes and her lips press tight, saving her argument for another time. 

 

Finally she just says, “Food will ready soon. Come back when you’re ready.” And with one last squeeze of her shoulder, she leaves Lena, crossing the wide grassy field to the tree line where the rest of their unit has finished setting up camp.

 

Lena turns to face the drop off again. She had known this day would come. And yet some foolish part of her had hoped- had assumed her mother would at least wait for peace, but-

 

Lena shakes her head, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

 

When she was younger, she had protested the arranged marriage out of a desire for autonomy, balking at the idea of someone else making the choice on her behalf, with motives other than her own. 

 

She hadn’t given much thought to who she would choose, to the idea of a life spent with the person of her heart’s yearning. 

 

But now-

 

Blue eyes claim Lena’s mind. Her magic stirs- a hint of that strange awakening that happens when the owner of those eyes is near.

 

Maybe it’s for the best. 

 

The last time she’d seen Kara… something is there.

 

But Lena’s not certain it’s what Kara would want, even if they had the choice, even if the timing were right and the war over.

 

And Lena is under no illusions. 

 

Even if they both survive to see peace, Kara is under the same obligations- doubly so, with the ruling seat of the council ready to be relinquished by her aunt should Kara decide to claim it when she turns twenty-four. 

 

Kara believes in honor, in duty. 

 

Even now, she acts in the best interests of the people, fighting to keep Krypton free. 

 

She had written once, about her parents- mentioning how lucky they had been to have found love in a pairing made from political strategy.

 

This has been their fate all along. 

 

Lena closes her eyes, breathing deep. 

 

 

A cry of alarm shatters her reflection.

 

 

Lena turns to the sound- Sam is shouting, words unintelligible from this distance, racing toward Lena and pointing back down the way they came.

 

Lena whirls around, heart dropping as she sees a wave of Daxamite riders breaking through the trees, bearing down on her. They must be a hundred strong, the flag held by the standard bearer that of the Queen’s prize calvary. 

 

 

She has seconds at most.

 

 

Everything slows even as her mind races. 

 

She, daughter of a noble house, will likely be taken for trade or ransom. 

 

But Sam- Sam had delivered the killing blow to the prince of Daxam not three months prior, defending Lena and the rest of their unit as they made their retreat. The battle-thirsty prince had pushed forward, driving his troops into the narrow passage and straight into the arrows of Sam and the archers. 

 

Once word had reached the Queen, an enormous bounty had been placed on Sam’s head, and the rest of their archers. Dead or alive. 

 

So Lena would kept alive for bargaining, but Sam- Sam, with a daughter waiting back home, Sam, who has become Lena’s family as much as anyone ever has- Sam and the others will be killed. Either on this very mountainside or hung from the parapets of the queen’s castle, only a day’s ride from here. Too close for any hope of interception and rescue.

 

The wind whips Lena’s hair forward as she turns again to look to Sam, sprinting for all she’s worth, bow in hand, still shouting.

 

The riders will reach her before Sam does, will separate her from their unit, will surround Sam, who, despite her lion’s heart, will be overrun. Even if the others fled, they would be no match for the speed of the cavalry bearing down upon them now. 

 

But they won’t flee. Each one of them would give their last breath for Lena, for each other- and they will do so this very day, unless-

 

Unless.

 

“LENAAAA!” Sam is still shouting, sprinting, desperately trying to reach her. 

 

Lena meets Sam’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she breathes.

 

Sam’s eyes go wide, her cries renewed, but Lena turns away from her friend, stepping toward the oncoming army.

 

Lena closes her eyes, breathes deep, and draws upon the raw power simmering within. Holding her hands above the ground, she reaches out- down into the earth, to the stones and roots and the river raging far, far below.

 

Where before she accessed only a sliver at a time, now Lena cracks the well wide open, asking not for a drop but a wave. It fills her in a sizzling cascade, racing through her veins.

 

At this level of output, her magic is unrefined- a brute force, a blunt instrument. 

 

But today, Lena is not an arrow. Today, she is a hammer.

 

She can hear- no, feel- the beating of hooves atop the mountainside, the thunderous wave about to break upon her. The lighter patter of Sam’s feet to her left. But beyond that, below- 

 

The mountain responds to her call.

 

Just as the first riders separate her from Sam, as the sneering face of their commander comes into Lena’s view, his victory certain- 

 

Lena clenches her fists and drives them to the ground, sending her power crackling deep into the ground.

 

 _CRAAAAAAAA_ - _CK_

 

With a mighty roar, the earth cleaves itself in two. 

 

Sam falls to her knees at the edge of the newly-formed chasm, Lena’s name still on her lips, helpless to do anything but watch as Lena- and the Daxam army- and the very ground beneath their feet- collapse down the cliffside and are swallowed by the river.

 

 

///

 

  

Kara breathes deeply, savoring the crisp air, the peaceful quiet of the forest. She leans back in the saddle, letting Castor lead the way, his hooves sure and steady over the grassy trail.

 

She had met Astra in the capital, serving the dual purpose of carrying the latest report from their camp and attending the council meeting happening there.

 

With only a few years left until Kara is of age to take her parents’ seat, Astra had thought it wise to have Kara attend, to see for herself the influence and responsibilities of the position. 

 

Normally, Kara would have resisted leaving the front, but the fighting had slowed as the winter months approached, more skirmishes than outright battles, and Alex had encouraged her to go.

 

Astra had expressed some concern at Kara making the trip back to the front alone, but the journey from Kandor has been uneventful so far. This deep into Krypton, enemy sightings are few and far between, though Kara keeps her ears tuned for any sign of trouble.

  

The gurgling of the river grows louder and Kara nudges Castor toward the sound with one knee. 

They could both use a drink.

 

The trees part, thinning as they near the river’s edge, and Kara’s eyes snag on a splash of color. 

 

She squints and makes out a swath of blue fabric- a blue scarf, wrapped around the form of a someone tangled in the branches of a downed tree in the middle of the river.

 

Kara’s heartbeat falters.

 

“Oh Rao, no nono-” 

 

Kara dismounts at a run, ditching her cloak and boots along the shoreline, splashing through the shallows, swimming with great heaving strokes to reach the woman caught in the frigid water. 

 

Kara braces herself and untangles the limp form from the tree, carefully turning her over, holding her close.

 

Her heart ricochets as she reveals the familiar face. She pats her cheek frantically. “Lena, can you hear me? Come on Lena, open your eyes.” 

 

Lena is unresponsive, skin pale and cold to the touch.

 

Kara swears. She loops an arm around Lena from behind and pushes off, swimming toward the shore. When they’re close enough, she hooks hers arm beneath Lena’s legs and shoulders and carries her the rest of the way. 

 

She drops to her knees on the grass, lowering Lena to the ground. “C’mon c’mon!” Kara pleads as she presses her ear to Lena’s chest. 

 

No sound- Kara swears again and laces her fingers together, compressing Lena’s chest, her mind supplying the steps from summers spent at the lake estate with the Danvers. Eliza’s voice sounds in her head, _“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty- now breathe.”_

 

Kara tips Lena’s head back, pinching her nose and dropping her chin. Two breaths- _one, two_. 

 

No response. 

 

She begins compressions again, desperately hoping she’s doing it correctly, that she’s not too late.

 

“Please Lena,” she breathes in time to the driving of her hands. _Ten, eleven, twelve-_ “Please don’t be dead.”

 

Two more breaths. Kara pauses but Lena is still, no color to her face but the terrible purple-blue of her lips and the red of scrapes and cuts. 

 

“No,” Kara growls as she launches back into compressions. “You don’t get to do this.” F _ive, six, seven, eight._ “You- are not- dead!” 

 

_Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen-_

 

Two more rounds. No response.

 

Frustrated tears begin slipping down Kara’s nose, dripping into her hands, soaking into Lena’s tattered tunic. “Please!” 

 

She hits the end of her count and breathes for Lena once more, each exhale accompanied by a prayer. _“Rao, please.”_

 

But still, Lena does not wake. 

 

Kara’s hands first into the dirt and she throws her head back, loosing a wordless roar to the sky.

 

There is no reply but the wind, cold and unsympathetic.

 

Kara’s roar dies to a sob.

 

Of all the rivers, in all the forests- that she would come so close- would even have seen Lena there-

 

“This can’t be,” Kara chokes out. She hunches over Lena’s prone form, tears still falling freely. 

 

With trembling hands she smoothes away the dark strands clinging to Lena’s face. Gentle fingers frame pale skin and Kara offers one last plea. “Please, beautiful- open your eyes for me.”

 

And when Lena remains still, Kara’s head drops, shoulders shaking with grief. 

 

Reverently, she leans forward to press a kiss to Lena’s forehead, tears falling gently upon Lena’s skin. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers.

 

As the last light of the day slips behind the trees, Kara rests her head upon Lena’s chest, fingers clenched in her tattered tunic. 

 

Kara knows she ought to move, to put Lena to rest, to make camp, to warm her own body against the chill she can feel gripping her bones- but her heart welcomes the approaching night. 

 

She has not faced grief the likes of this for some ten years, and a deep weariness drags her eyes closed.

 

 

_Thu-thud._

 

 

Kara’s eyes snap open.

 

 

_Thu-thud._

 

 

The unmistakable rhythm of a heartbeat jolts Kara upright just as Lena’s chest heaves with a cough.

 

“Lena!” Kara scrambles to turn Lena to her side. Gasping coughs expel river-water and bile onto the ground and then Lena is breathing- lungs greedily sucking in air as Kara gathers her into her arms.

 

“Holy Rao, you’re alive,” Kara cries, pulling Lena close as shivers wrack her frame. 

 

“Was- was I not?” Lena manages to stutter out. 

 

Kara can’t answer, just laughs and pulls Lena closer as tears of relief spill down her cheeks. 

 

They stay that way for some time, Lena catching her breath, Kara trying to rub some warmth back into Lena’s limbs. When Lena’s breathing calms, Kara stands, pulling a shivering Lena with her and up into her arms. “We’ve got to get you warm.”

 

“H-how did you find me?” Lena’s words slur, her forehead creasing in confusion. 

 

“We’ll share stories later. For now-” Kara whistles Castor over, asking the horse to lie down. He obliges and Kara settles Lena against his broad side.“Focus on staying awake. I’ll get a fire going.” She unfurls her blanket from its roll, tucking it around Lena.

 

Kara starts the fire quickly, willing to risk someone spotting the smoke for the way it cuts through the encroaching chill of the night. 

 

She crouches in front of Lena, rousing her with a gentle squeeze of her arms. Lena’s eyes flutter open partway, head rolling slowly upward. 

 

Kara takes in the scrapes and bruises visible, worry rising as she thinks of injuries unseen. “Are you hurt?” she asks.

 

Lena’s brow furrows, eyes sliding closed again. “I don’t think so,” she breathes.

 

That will have to do for now.

 

“I’m going to take some of these wet clothes off, alright?” Kara waits until Lena nods, then begins to peel away the layers of damp, tattered cloth clinging to Lena. 

 

She keeps the blanket tucked around Lena as best she can, but by the time she gets Lena down to her undergarments, Lena is shaking. Kara tears her eyes from the dark bruises forming on Lena’s skin, wrapping her tightly in the blanket again, rubbing her arms and back to get the blood flowing. 

 

“There you go. Give me a minute.”

 

She strips quickly and arranges their garments over rocks and to hang from branches nearby, placing Lena’s boots near the fire with the hope that they will dry by morning.

 

She retrieves her cloak from the sand and returns to Lena. “I’m going to put you between Castor and I, okay?”

 

Lena is groggy and barely responsive, but she nods. She’s still shivering, her skin chalky.

 

Kara picks Lena up gently, still cocooned in the blanket, and moves her so that she’s lying down, her back pressed to Castor’s side. Kara lies beside her, draping the cloak over them both, pulling Lena against her, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shaking form. 

 

Kara presses a kiss to Lena’s hair, her head tucked under Kara’s chin. “You’re going to be okay.”

 

 

///

 

 

The night passes in an agonizing creep. 

 

As the chill fades and Lena’s shivering subsides, Kara feels the weight of weariness pulling at her mind. She fights it, keenly aware of their vulnerable position, of the fire blazing like a beacon to anyone who might be near- friend or foe.

 

And with her body tuned to every inhale of the woman in her arms- the image of Lena so still on the ground still fresh in her mind- it is hours before the tension leaks from Kara’s muscles.

 

Eventually the flames die down to embers and Kara allows herself to drift into a restless sleep, pulled awake throughout the night by every creak and groan of the forest around them. 

 

When the sky finally lightens in pre-dawn, Kara rises. She dresses quickly, then checks again on Lena. 

 

“Lena?” Kara says softly, rubbing her shoulder to ease her to wakefulness.

 

Lena doesn’t stir, but for the rise and fall of her breathing and worry worms its way back into Kara’s gut.

 

She’s about to check again for injuries when she notices the sheen of sweat on Lena’s forehead. Her skin is hot- too hot- to the touch. 

 

They need to get back to Alex.

 

Kara packs in moments, sparing time to gently tug a loose tunic over Lena’s head. It’s awkward, but she manages to get them both in the saddle, and she urges Castor as fast as she dares, Lena propped between her arms.

 

 

///

 

 

“Alex!”

 

Alex’s head snaps up at Kara’s shout as she comes thundering into camp, headed for the medical tent. Her eyes go wide when she sees the woman in Kara's arms and she runs to meet them, helping to steady Castor and hold Lena in the saddle as Kara dismounts. Kara gathers Lena into her arms again and follows Alex. 

 

“What happened?” Alex holds the tent flap back as Kara maneuvers Lena inside.

 

“I found her in the river last night.” She lays Lena gently down on the bed, turning to see Alex’s eyebrows raise in confusion and alarm. 

 

Kara shakes her head, leaning in to feel Lena’s forehead again. “I don’t know what happened. She's pretty banged up, was in the water for- I don’t know how long.” She looks at Alex, desperation leaking into her words. “She slept last night but the fever hit this morning and she’s been unresponsive since.”

 

Alex nods and begins gathering supplies from the various pouches and chests within the tent, her movements practiced and efficient.

 

“What can I do?” Kara asks, feeling helpless, Lena’s hand too warm in her own.

 

Alex holds up a finger, some calculation running in her mind. She listens to Lena’s lungs, feels her pulse, checks the heat of her forehead. Finally she nods to herself. “Get a kettle boiling and bring me a large pale of fresh water from the stream.”

 

Kara is off before Alex’s words are finished, her keen hearing picking up the tail end as she sprints across camp.

 

 

///

 

 

Several hours later- hours of Alex’s brisk orders, of making ginger-root tea, of grinding plants and herbs for salves and poultices, of applying and reapplying cool cloths, of running to and from the stream for water- Kara sinks onto the ground beside the low bed.

 

She leans her shoulder against the bed frame, head resting against Lena’s thigh, one hand tangled in Lena’s. Eyes closing, Kara lets out a long breath. 

 

Lena’s fever had finally broken. She woke long enough to smile at Kara and mumble a question about Sam before falling into a calm sleep.

 

Alex seems certain Lena will be alright after more rest, had made several pointed comments about Kara’s bedraggled appearance in an attempt to convince her to get some sleep as well. 

 

But Kara’s heart has only just settled into its normal rhythm, as if it had been tied to the racing of Lena’s. And she’s not willing to leave just yet, to risk breaking that perceived thread of connection between them.

 

They still don’t know what happened. Scouts had been sent upriver immediately after Kara’s arrival in search of Lena’s unit. And while their focus had been on Lena, Kara hadn’t missed the crease of worry as Alex delivered the order, wondering at the fate of the rest of them.

 

Kara must doze, for the tent is illuminated by firelight when she wakes, roused by fingers gently kneading the top of her head.  She tips upright groggily.

 

Lena’s smile is amused. “You look terrible,” she whispers.

 

Kara’s brain catches up and she scrambles to her feet. “You’re awake!”

 

She takes Lena’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

 

Lena gives a tiny shrug. “Not too bad, all things considered.”

 

“Yeah, well, you’re insanely lucky,” Alex says as she walks in. “Also, you had a great doctor.” 

 

She winks and Kara rolls her eyes. Still, she knows Alex wouldn’t be joking if Lena were still in danger, and the last of the tension eases from her chest.

 

She turns her attention back to Lena, squeezing her hand. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 

“How did you find me?” Lena asks, brow crinkling.

 

Kara shakes her head with a smile. “I was in the area, if you can believe that.”

 

Lena’s eyebrows shoot up and she huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Well that’s lucky.”

 

“Really though, I-“

 

Kara is cut off by a flurry of activity just outside, culminating in Sam pushing into the tent, stumbling to a stop when she sees Lena.

 

Sam stands there, breaths heaving, throat bobbing with emotion.

 

Kara looks at Alex, silently nodding that they ought to excuse themselves from this reunion when Sam’s voice comes out low and tense.

 

“Of all the reckless-“

 

“Sam-“ Lena begins, pushing up on her elbows.

 

“Stupid, brave- IDIOTIC-“ Sam stalks forward, shouting. Kara scurries out of her way.

 

Lena casts a desperate look to Kara but Alex pulls her out the door. “Nope, we do not need to be here.”

 

As they walk away, Kara’s ears pick up Lena saying, “I’m alright, it wasn’t that bad-” 

 

Sam’s bellowed “YOU FELL OFF A MOUNTAIN!” can be heard halfway across the camp.

 

 

///

 

 

Later, after Alex and Kara get the story from Jess- the whole, insane, impossible story- they sit together by the fire. By the lack of shouting, Sam and Lena have made amends, but they’re still giving the other women the space they need to process together.

 

Kara stares into the fire and imagines the scene that Jess had described, shuddering as she pictures it. 

 

By all accounts, Lena should be dead. 

 

“Hey.” Alex nudges her. “You alright?”

 

Kara nods, breathing in deep. “Yeah. Just an intense couple of days.” She gives a half-smile that Alex clearly doesn’t buy.

 

Kara looks toward the medical tent. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”

 

Alex considers Kara the way only she can- years of friendship making them experts on each other.

 

“I-” Alex’s lips press into a frown as she considers her words. Kara waits. “I worry about you, you know that.” 

 

Kara nods. Sometimes she wishes that Alex wouldn’t- or that she could spare Alex that tension. But she knows that it’s not driven by any lack of confidence in Kara- it’s a concern driven by love and protectiveness and the desire for whatever is best for her sister.

 

The way Alex’s gaze now is full of empathy as she says, “I see the way you look at her.”

 

Kara ducks her head, turning her cup in her hands. 

 

She’d been trying to ignore it- the flutter in her stomach, the ache in her chest.

 

But she can’t ignore the way her world had splintered, there on the beach. 

 

And they’ve been at this war too long and she has too much respect for Alex to waste time denying. 

 

She holds Alex’s gaze in confirmation.

 

Alex’s brow furrows, a subtle sorrow lacing her features. “She’s from a noble family. As are you. And that comes with...”

 

Kara knows where this is headed. “Obligations,” she supplies.

 

“You know how I feel about all of that.”  Kara does- Alex had railed against the unfairness of Kara’s spouse being chosen for her on many occasions growing up. “And I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do, I just-”

 

This time it’s Alex who looks away, and Kara follows her gaze to where Sam and Lena are making their way toward the fire. Lena leans into Sam a little, their walk slow. But hair is braided back, her eyes bright and clear, and relief settles deeper into Kara’s gut.

 

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” Alex asks, dragging Kara’s attention back. Kara cocks her head in question. 

 

“To tell you not to fall in love,” Alex repeats, already knowing the answer. “It’s too late.” 

 

Kara watches Lena reunite with her unit- smiles and hugs and a joyful camaraderie that’s palpable even from a distance. But then Lena’s gaze wanders, searching. Past her companions, past the hubbub of the camp settling in for the night. And when it alights on Kara, her smile grows into something truly spectacular, setting off sparks within Kara’s chest. 

 

“Yes,” Kara answers.

 

 

///

 

 

 

They get a few blessed days together. The story of Lena’s heroics on the cliffside spreads like wildfire through the camp, another tale added to her already impressive reputation. 

 

 

But these tales spread beyond Krypton’s borders, to the ears of another magic user- one bent on Krypton’s destruction.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Rec:
> 
> "Not In Blood, But In Bond" from Sherlock Holmes by Hans Zimmer

 

Someone should have realized, Kara will think later. 

 

That a Queen who has figured out how to use dark magic to strengthen her army would be interested in rumors of another who uses magic. 

 

That tales of a warrior who can call wind and earth to her bidding would threaten said Queen.

 

That a woman desperate enough to twist men into creatures of claw and fang will stop at nothing to win the war.

 

Someone should have realized.

 

///

 

 

They attack just before dawn.

 

 

A swarm of dark soldiers descends, throwing the camp into chaos.

 

Fires burn as tents and buildings are set alight, shouts and screams rising with the smoke.

 

 

Kara fights her way through the melee- desperately searching as she cuts down each Daxamite she encounters. 

 

There are too many- too many to face like this, unprepared, caught unawares. 

 

She can’t find Alex, and when she pulls back the door to the medical tent it’s empty, Lena nowhere to be found.

 

Terror begins to slink along Kara’s spine.

 

She crouches down in a pocket of dark, sparing precious moments to force the fear away, to focus her mind. She closes her eyes, feeling for the well of power at her core and casting out- seeking the kindred power in Lena. 

 

At first, nothing. 

 

And then-

 

Kara drives her sword upward as she spins from her crouch and the Daxamite goes down with a screech.

 

Kara’s eyes hone in on the tug she’d felt- the north end of the camp.

 

She sprints, avoiding engaging the enemy in favor of speed, her magic pulsing with urgency. Dodge, block, _run_.

 

The sky is just beginning to brighten as she nears the edge of the camp, and its with horror that she picks out an unconscious Lena amidst a group of soldiers, headed away, headed toward Daxam.

 

She’s slowed as the swarm of Daxamites thickens, just as many left on the outskirts of the camp as Kara had seen within, almost as if-

 

Her magic flares as she realizes why they came.

 

Fervor renewed, Kara pushes her way through the next line of the dark soldiers- it’s then she sees Sam, twenty paces away, fighting as she is.

 

She must have seen them take Lena.

 

Kara shifts trajectory, cutting through the soldiers on a course that will intersect with Sam. Two blades are faster than one.

 

She’s nearly there when she spies an enormous man cutting his way through the ranks, eyes fixed on Sam. Firelight glints off the sigil on his chest- the Queen’s second, her general.

 

Kara shouts a warning, but Sam’s singular focus is the same as Kara’s- get to Lena. 

 

Sam doesn’t see the blow that knocks her off her feet. 

 

The general brings his weapon down but Kara is there, bursting the last few strides to block the downward arc of his sword.

 

She doesn’t see the knife until it’s buried to the hilt in her side. 

 

Kara grunts in pain, clutching at the weapon with one hand, the other arm still holding off the general’s sword. The man sneers, twisting the knife, sending a spike of agony through Kara. 

 

She roars, snapping her head forward, breaking the man’s nose with her forehead. He staggers back, letting go of the knife.

 

“Bitch!” Blood sprays as he snarls. 

 

He raises his sword again, but doesn’t get the chance to strike as one of Sam’s knives sings past Kara’s ear to sink into his chest.

 

Kara’s vision goes blurry. She can still make out the group of soldiers dragging Lena further and further away. She has to move, she has to-

 

Sam’s face appears in front of her, eyes going wide. “Dammit, Kara.”

 

Kara feels her strength slipping away, replaced by a terrible, creeping cold. She grips Sam’s arm, forces the words from her mouth. “Lena. Go.”

 

Sam hesitates and Kara uses the last of her strength to push Sam away, toward Lena. “Go!” she shouts, falling to hands and knees. 

 

Sam takes several steps backward, hesitating- but Kara knows Sam, knows that she loves Lena the way Kara loves Alex. 

 

And so through fading vision she sees Sam sprinting after Lena, leaving a path of destruction in her wake. 

 

Kara collapses.

 

 

 

///

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack Rec:
> 
> “Should You Choose to Accept It” from Mission Impossible Fallout by Lorne Balfe
> 
> ^I really recommend listening to this one as you read. If you soundtrack one chapter, do this one, with this song on repeat.

Kara wakes to familiar walls of stone slab and tall, arching ceilings, and Alex. 

 

As Alex hovers, grateful exclamations escaping, watery smile breaking through her drawn, worried expression, Kara feels tears well at the sight of her sister, safe. 

 

She tries to form the question heavy on her heart, but too quickly her broken body relents and she is claimed by sleep once again.

 

 

 

///

 

 

 

The next time Kara wakes, Astra is there- head bent in prayer or exhaustion, fingers clasped and resting on Kara’s leg. Her eyes snap open at the small movement Kara manages with her hand. 

 

“Thank Rao,” Astra breathes, wrapping Kara’s hand in her own. “How are you feeling, Little One?”

 

Kara swallows with difficulty, gathering her strength, determined to ask her question. But she doesn’t have to- Astra seems to sense Kara’s struggle. She squeezes Kara’s hand, forehead creasing. “No word yet- no one’s seen her since the battle.”

 

Kara tries not to panic. “How long?” she croaks out.

 

Astra’s lips press into a thin line. “It’s been three weeks.”

 

Kara closes her eyes, feeling the moisture gathering behind her eyelids. “She could still be-“ she can’t finish her desperate whisper.

 

Astra brushes a soothing hand over Kara’s hair. “I know, Little One. We have not given up hope of bringing her home.”

 

But Kara peers at her aunt through tired eyes, and sees the lie.

 

She does not expect Lena to come home.

 

 

///

 

 

A week later, and Kara can wait no longer. Still no word from the Regiment or from Daxam. 

 

Kara pulls herself to the edge of her bed, panting, muscles shaking. Pushing into a stand, she staggers to the dresser. 

 

She manages to pull on some clothes, feeling more confident with each moment upright. 

 

She doesn’t know where she’ll go, what she’ll do. But anything is better than lying here, waiting-

 

The door opens and Kara sees Alex out of the corner of her eye. 

 

“Alex, I can’t sit here any longer,” she begins, anticipating Alex’s reproach. She finishes tying her pants and turns to her sister.

 

Alex is crying, tears streaming silently down her cheeks, sorrow and remorse in her very stance.

 

She doesn’t say it- just catches Kara as she collapses, her roar of grief echoing through the keep.

 

 

///

 

 

A few days later, Alex finds Kara hunched against the wide stone railing of the upper balcony, breathing deeply through her nose, one hand braced against her side. 

 

Alex joins her, facing the expanse of water that stretches to the horizon, stealing a glance at her sister. Kara is pale, dark smudges beneath her eyes all the more prominent against her sallow skin. 

 

Word has come from the Luthor House. There will be no procession, no memorial, Lillian too wrought with grief to do anything but immediately lay her daughter’s remains to rest in the family crypt. 

  

Kara takes the news in silence, her gaze fixed on the horizon, the muscles of her jaw shifting. 

  

They stand together until the sunlight no longer glints off the water. And when Kara finally steps away from the railing, she waves away Alex’s offer for help, walking slowly back into the castle with a shuffling, limping gait.

 

  

///

 

 

Not long after, a parcel arrives for Kara as they are sitting down for the mid-day meal. 

 

Kara weighs the bundle, the canvas wrap giving under her fingers, an accompanying note addressed to Alex tucked into the folds. 

 

It’s Sam’s handwriting. 

  

Kara swallows hard. 

  

She passes the note to Alex and rises from the table, leaving her food untouched.

  

 

///

 

 

Kara waits. 

 

 

She waits until the sky is grey, the clouds heavy and slung low over the hills. 

 

She waits until she can stand straight, the pieces of her that had been torn apart mended just enough. 

 

And then she walks. 

 

Past her parents’ empty bedroom, untouched for years. 

 

Through the long halls where she used to run. 

 

Past the little courtyard where they first met. 

 

She crosses the training grounds where her magic was unleashed- the magic that was not enough to save her. To save any of them.

 

She walks, head held high, the unopened parcel tucked under her arm, a convenient excuse to keep pressure against the side that still throbs with each step.

 

She picks her way along the rocky path that twists down to the shore.

 

Through the massive boulders dotting the beach.

 

To the small pile of wood she had asked Alex to leave for her, a torch driven into the sand beside it.

 

It is there that Kara drops to her knees, breathing heavily. 

 

She holds the package to her stomach, eyes closed. 

 

And then with shaking hands, she finally unwraps it. Brown canvas falls away, revealing a deep, ocean blue.

 

Kara’s breath catches. 

 

Reverent fingers brush the fabric- once bright, now worn, faded. She rubs a spot between her thumb and forefinger, the rusty stain causing bile to rise in the back of her throat.

 

 

Kara closes her eyes again.

 

 

She can do this. She will do this.

 

 

She clears her throat, and with the sky and the sea as her witness, Kara begins to sing.

 

 

It is the same lament Astra sang at her parents’ funeral.

 

A statement of profound love, and deepest grief.

 

She makes it through the first verse before her cheeks become wet, her salty tears joining the mist of ocean spray whipped ashore by the wind.

 

As her voice rises and falls in clear, resonant notes, she folds the scarf and sets it gently atop the pyre.

 

And as she starts the second verse, she presses a fist to her chest, and sets the wood alight.

 

The flames are hungry, and they devour the pyre quickly, burning bright.

 

The final stanza escapes Kara in a holy whisper, swallowed by the crackling of the fire and the rhythmic roar of the sea. 

 

And as the light fades, as the flames lift the last of that piece of Lena into the starry sky, Kara offers a final farewell: the prayer for the dead, the final rite led by a surviving female member of the family.

 

 

“You have been the sun of our lives.”

 

 

Kara closes her eyes, and she can hear the laughter of a small girl with raven hair.

 

 

“Our prayers will be the sun that lights your way on the journey home.”

 

 

She can feel the warmth of Lena’s side against her own.

 

 

“We will remember you in every dawn.”

 

 

Sees the morning sun glinting off silken tresses, haloing her in blessed light.

 

 

“And await the night we will join you in the sky.”

 

 

The smell of smoke, Lena’s smile a vision lit by firelight, her hand warm in Kara’s.

 

Lena in her arms, by the river, on the way to the camp.

 

Lena’s fingers in her hair-

 

Lena’s voice whispering her name- 

 

Lena’s eyes finding her own- 

Lena, Lena-

_Lena-_

 

“Rao’s will be done.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I lied, there's one more chap that ABSOLUTELY deserves a soundtrack and it's this one with this song:
> 
> "Opening" from Far From the Madding Crowd by Craig Armstrong
> 
> You will thank me, I swear.

 

 

Months pass in a strange limbo, the days both agonizingly slow, and impossibly fast. Weeks go by without Kara’s notice, and single nights spent staring into the starry sky last an eternity. Kara wanders the castle in a haze, haunting the halls like a ghost.

 

And then, on a day like any other- all of them having bled into a fog- Kara receives a letter from Astra. 

 

A date has been set for her marriage. An ally, is all Astra had said about Kara’s betrothed. Their identity kept secret for the safety of all involved, given the turn in the war.

 

Alex curses as she reads the letter Kara slides to her across the breakfast table.

 

But Kara is not surprised. She knew this day would come. 

 

A year ago, she might have shared Alex’s frustration and indignation, might have railed against the pairing. 

 

But the reason for such a rebellion is gone. 

 

Grief has hollowed Kara into a shell of the person she was, and she finds she cannot muster anything but acceptance and apathy.

 

 

 

///

 

 

 

Astra joins them in Argo a few weeks later, and they depart soon after.

  

Their party is small and they leave without fanfare, traveling under the guise of a diplomatic errand. The destination is kept secret, known only by Astra, and as they progress east, Kara does not recognize the way. 

 

Deep greens and misty greys paint the landscape their first day, the air moist and cool. Kara rides in silence, hood pulled low, content to be left with her own thoughts. 

But the green hills inevitably draw her mind to eyes of a similar shade. Eyes she will never see again.

 

Kara feels the fog of apathy beckoning, promising a relief from the pulsing tear in her heart. 

But Kara pulls in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs, forcing herself to feel that ache for oxygen, that proof that she is alive.

  

She once told Lena not to give up hope. 

 

And as the hills of the moors peter out, shifting into the oak forests of the mid-country, Kara feels a stirring. 

There is beauty here- in the land, in the people. Beauty worth fighting for. She may have lost the woman she loves, but not all is forsaken.

 

So as the grief washes over Kara anew, she does not fight it, does not tuck it away, but lets it pour over her like a cold rain. 

With it comes the certainty that Lena would not give up, would not give in- not to grief, not to the darkness trying to steal the light from this land.

 

And so Kara resolves once again, to fight. For honor, for compassion, for justice- for peace.

 

Lena would not give up.

 

So neither will she.

  

 

 

///

 

 

 

Alex pins the last piece of hair and stands back to survey her work. “Done.”

 

Kara rises, crossing the bedroom to stand in front of the mirror. She turns her head to check Alex’s work and gives a small smile. “It looks wonderful- thank you.”

 

They had arrived at the estate- an aging, beautiful stone mansion hidden away in the foothills- late the evening before. 

Kara has not seen her betrothed, but the question of their identity is not one she ponders as she readies for the ceremony.

Her marriage will be what her mother and aunt prepared her for from a young age: an act of duty, of honor. 

 

On the long journey here Kara had decided- that she would not wish for things that cannot be, but that she would do her part, follow in her mother’s example, lead and serve. And if this marriage is as important as Astra claims, she will enter the union willingly. For her family, for her country, for her people. 

 

Alex retrieves the last pieces of Kara’s outfit- the dark blue dress uniform coat and the short cloak in deep red. She holds the coat up for Kara to slip her arms in, then helps to fasten the cloak over top. She pins the golden clasp with the sigil of the House of El engraved, stepping back again to allow Kara to give the final approval.

Kara shuffles her shoulders, pulling at the sleeves until the garment settles just so.

 

“You seem-“ Alex pauses. “Calm. Truly calm, not-” She cuts off but Kara knows what she means. Not just dead to the world.

 

Kara thinks about the revelations she had on the journey here. She knows that the grieving never really ends- just changes, shifts. But she also knows that it is possible to go on. To keep living.

 

“I am. I think-” She’s not sure how to express the multitude of feelings, so she settles on the driving thought that has kept her going. “I think Lena wouldn’t have given up hope.” Her smile is tinged with sadness. “So I’m going to try not to either.”

 

Alex swallows hard and they both ignore the moisture rimming her eyes. “Well, it’s good to see you smile again.”

She picks an invisible thread from Kara’s jacket, hands coming to rest on her shoulders. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Kara pulls Alex into a hug and Alex’s arms wrap around her tightly. Kara savors that pressure- so steady, so strong- just like Alex herself. 

Both are dabbing at their eyes when there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll see you down there,” Alex says, giving Kara one last smile.

 

Astra steps inside the room as Alex leaves, closing the door softly behind her. 

 

“You look beautiful,” Astra says. She stands before her niece, and Kara is surprised to see remorse in Astra’s eyes.

 

Astra takes Kara’s hands. “I’m sorry for the secrecy.” 

 

Kara’s brow crinkles. “I know the tradition. And I can understand the need for extra precaution, given the state of things.”

 

Astra nods, but Kara senses she’s still missing something.

 

“I would have you know, I did not take this pairing lightly. It was your mother’s idea, initially. She said if you were to grow into the power she suspected you had…“ Astra squeezes Kara’s hands. “I think she sensed that the war was not over, long before the rest of us. She left me instructions, to pursue this partnership, if what she saw developing came to be.”

 

She swallows thickly, her hand brushing back a strand of Kara’s hair. “I know she would be so proud of you, of the woman you’ve become.”

 

Kara feels the old ache, made fresh by their absence on this day. She just nods, not trusting her words.

 

Astra opens her mouth as if to say more, but instead she smiles sadly.

A knock sounds on the door and Astra squeezes Kara’s hands again. “It’s time.”

She steps to the side. “I hope one day you can find a way to forgive me.”

 

Kara turns to the door, uncertain anticipation clinging to her. 

 

Sam Arias walks through. 

 

 

Kara’s still trying to figure out what Sam is doing here when her world stops.

 

 

Stops, and then starts again.

 

 

Because standing in the doorway- radiant, whole, _alive_ \- is Lena.

 

Lena, who’s eyes go wide, her sharp inhale audible from across the room.

A strangled sound escapes Kara, not trusting her eyes, not daring to hope-

And then Lena is in her arms and- the warmth of her skin, the silken texture of her hair, the desperate grip of Lena’s arms- it’s all real- _she’s real-_

A sob breaks free as she leans back, hands on either side of Lena’s face, wonder and disbelief and outrageous joy exploding through her.

Tears are streaming down Lena’s cheeks as she holds tightly to Kara’s arms.

 

“I can’t believe it’s-“ 

“I thought you were-“

They both laugh, and Kara drinks in the sight of her. She leans forward to press her forehead to Lena’s, shock still rippling through her from head to toe.

“How is this possible?” she breathes.

 

“You saved Sam,” Lena says, eyes full. “And Sam saved me.”

 

She looks over at the captain who is staring at the floor, doing her best not to intrude on the moment. 

 

“That was the deal,” Kara says, her tone laced with deep gratitude. For Sam’s shoulders are curled, and Kara can only imagine the weight she’s been carrying- this remarkable leader, forced to leave an injured friend behind, tasked with saving another, made to keep this enormous secret. 

And when Sam glances up, the conflict still swirling in her eyes, Kara holds Sam’s gaze until her shoulders straighten. And when Kara nods to her, understanding passes between them.

 

Astra picks up the story. “By chance- or good fortune- I was visiting the Luthor House when Captain Arias brought Lena back. And with the queen so keen on capturing her, Lillian and I thought it best to let everyone think she had perished- especially you.”

 

Astra looks at Kara. “We’ve suspected a spy for some time, and the ambush at the border was too well-timed to be coincidence. I have my suspicions even within our own house and-“ Here Astra shakes her head, sorrow in her eyes. “We weren’t even certain if Lena would recover, but no one would have believed the ruse- not without you.”

 

Kara knows she ought to be outraged at the deception perpetrated against her. And she would be- if not for the woman in her arms. 

 

Instead, she latches onto one of the details. “You were hurt?” Kara asks, brow furrowing as she looks Lena over again.

 

Lena’s smile is soft and wondrous. She quirks a long-suffering eyebrow. “Of course that’s what you heard, from all of that.”

 

But Kara’s concern remains, and so Lena answers seriously. “I was. I’ve healed, I’m alright.” 

 

She places a hand to Kara’s side, taking over Kara’s frown. “And you?”

She peers at Kara with brilliant green eyes and- 

 

_Rao, those eyes._

 

Kara stares into those gods-damned green eyes, the ones that have haunted her these many months, and swears she will look upon them in awe every day for the rest of her life.

 

“I am now,” Kara answers.

 

 

 

///

 

 

 

A short while later, Kara stands with Astra, waiting their turn to descend the broad staircase and into the great hall for the ceremony.

 

An unanswered question sits at the back of Kara’s mind. “Astra?” she asks, getting her aunt’s attention.

 

“Yes?” Astra answers.

 

“You said my mother left you instructions- about Lena and I?” Kara asks, trying to see how the pieces fit.

 

Astra nods.

 

“So this pairing, it was because she suspected we had magic… and that it could be influential, should the war return?”

 

Astra smiles knowingly. “Partly, yes.” She chuckles at Kara’s inquiring eyebrow raise. “She saw something in you both, when you were younger. As did I.”

 

“Magic?”

 

“Magic, yes. But also kinship.” Astra’s expression softens. “The way you speak of her, the way you look at each other… I have eyes, Little One.”

 

Kara ducks her head, grinning. 

 

Astra continues. “It was strategic, yes. But I had hope- a fool’s hope, perhaps- that you would find... _happiness_. A chance to fill your heart with something other than vengeance and war.”

 

“It has always been my prayer that this land find peace.” She cups Kara’s cheek. “But also that you, my bright star, might find joy once again.”

 

Kara swallows thickly and pulls Astra into an embrace.

 

And as the first notes sound from below, she steps forward confidently, full of anticipation and hope.

 

Call it prophesy, call it destiny. Call it whatever you like. 

 

Regardless of the twining threads of fate that seem to have brought them to this moment, Kara knows one thing, without an inch of doubt.

 

She chooses Lena, with her whole heart, for as long as they both shall live.

 

 

 

///

 

 

 

There is an old Kryptonian story, about the sky and the sea. Two forces of beauty and power, destined to be together, forever kept apart. 

 

But some endings are meant to be re-written.

 

And so it is that on a crisp autumn day, Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-el find each other once more. And with those they love bearing witness, they vow to hold fast, to cherish and protect, to love unconditionally.

 

And not time or distance, not war or peace, not magic or fate or destiny will ever come between them again. 

  

From this day forward, forever and always. 

  

 

 

The End.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I owe an enormous THANK YOU to FromAnotherSun for this prompt (engaged to each other but they don’t know it) it inspired me to churn out 19,000 words in just a few weeks, which is the most I've ever written in such a short amount of time. I so hope you enjoy this story- I certainly enjoyed writing it :)
> 
> (Also apologies my friend if you were hoping for a lighter take on that prompt- angst is about all I know how to do and it takes a cleverer writer than me to do that prompt justice with more humor and romance. I hope this was alright!)
> 
> Lastly, I know I didn't resolve the larger conflict- there just wasn't time. I definitely might expand this or write a sequel, but I haven't slept for a month, so... that's what I'll be doing for a while.


End file.
